


Accidental

by Menolly



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post Moving On fic, Sick!Wilson, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menolly/pseuds/Menolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While House was in prison, Wilson made a failed suicide attempt. He's recovering, but when House returns it becomes difficult to keeps his fragile mental condition to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidental

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 7 of sickwilson fest.
> 
> First posted to LJ January 2012

It's not like he meant for it to happen. He didn't have a _plan_ , or write out a note, or call anyone and say goodbye. It just happened, it happened so fast he didn't have time to think, or make any kind of rational decision. If he'd stopped to think about it he wouldn't have done it. He wouldn't have done it like _this_.

The whole thing happens too damn fast really. Cuddy has left, and although she didn't say _she'd never talk to him again_ , she talked about _making a fresh start_ , and _leaving the past behind her_ , and _making changes_ , and he knows he's part of that, a part she wants to leave behind. He's fine with that really, because the cast on his arm is nothing compared to the hole in her house, and House is all they ever really had in common, and she _never wants to hear that name again_. So she's moved on, and no, he hasn't talked to her, and he's here, and House is gone.

And he comes home, to the empty loft, the loft he shared with House, the loft he shared with Sam, the empty loft, and the cat is dead. Just lying there, in the kitchen. The insulin is in the fridge, but it doesn't matter now, nothing matters. There's nothing left (he's long since cleaned out the room House lived in, and Sam's taken her things away, and now the cat is dead, so, really, there's nothing left.)

There's some sort of dinner he's prepared in the fridge and he opens the door and stares at it. He should eat. He should pick up the dead cat, and take her away somewhere (and get rid of the insulin because it's not like she'll need that again and he forgot, but there was a dying kid, and he just forgot.)

He shuts the door to the fridge, walks around the cat and goes to the bathroom. There's a bottle of Tylenol. It will help with his headache. So he takes a couple, swallows them dry, like he's House and he can do that and it doesn't matter. And then he takes a couple more, because he _really_ wants the headache gone, and he's always wondered.

He sits on the couch with the Tylenol. He's not House, he's not going to drink a bottle of scotch, he's not going to take some pills his best friend prescribed and lie on the floor, and wait for his best friend to find him. He's not going to do anything. He empties all the pills out on the table. His head's still pounding (and Sarah's still dead, and the kid died as well, and House is _gone_ ) so he takes a couple more. He's not really going to do anything. Then he takes a handful.

Then he's bending over the toilet and being sick, his heart is pounding and his eyes are watering as he watches the pills coming back up. They're whole, they haven't had time, but there's so many of them. He doesn't remember taking that many. He's sick until he can't be sick any more, and he slumps down on the floor and leans against the wall. He's trembling and shaking, and then he's crying. And it isn't like he _meant_ to do it.

It's a long time later when he makes it to the phone. He calls his doctor. He didn't mean to do it, but he knows what he's supposed to do. He can do this, he can ask for help. He's not _House_.

He makes changes, he moves on. He does all the Right Things. He takes his anti-depressants, he exercises, he changes his diet. He goes to group, and to therapy, he _reaches out to people_ , he calls his Mom. He saves lives. He Gets Better. Things change, the cast comes off and House returns to the States. He doesn't go to see him, because that's his old life, that's him leaning over a toilet bowl throwing up pills with a dead cat in the kitchen.

His arm doesn't hurt anymore, and when House comes back he goes to see his therapist and nods when she tells him to _stay away_ , because it's not like they are friends any more (friends don't hurt each other) and it's not like he _needs_ House. Then House is telling him that he likes him, and he's saving Wilson's patient, and he has that thing on his ankle and he's sad and Wilson hits him because that will make them both feel better. He wishes he could say that he was sorry that House is back but he's not, not really.

He knows he should be mad when House finds out, House is waving his therapy notes at him and telling him how clever he's been working out where Wilson goes every Tuesday afternoon (and Wednesday to group) and maybe Friday again if it's been a bad week. He should be mad that House has violated his privacy but mostly he's just relieved because House _knows_. Okay, maybe House doesn't care but at least he _knows_ and Wilson doesn't need to pretend anymore that he's normal, that he's not screwed up. That he didn't do this thing.

And House mocks him (what sort of Doctor chooses Tylenol for the deed? Didn't he know that he would die a slow and agonizing death of liver and kidney failure? Why didn't he choose a Real Man's drug?) and makes fun of his medication, and his therapy. House tells him he's screwed up and he's always going to be screwed up, and no Group is going to help, and doing yoga and eating vegetables won't make it all better. None of that matters, not really, it's not what House says, it's what he _does_ and the Tylenol disappears from Wilson's home and his office and House has his minions watch him, and Wilson doesn't care because it's House and this is what he _does_.

One day he goes back to his empty loft (where House used to live, where Sam used to live) and there's a guitar in the living room, and junk down the hall, and House is in his bath (naked, but he doesn't look) and clothes in the spare room and House is Back. He's scared that the police are coming but House waves it away, he's changed his address, he's staying here, he's bored of being stuck in his apartment. Change of Scenery he says. Wilson nods, because that's all it is and yells at House for being in his bath and makes him dinner.

When he goes to bed that night House is still on his couch, watching television, feet sprawled on the coffee table, making things untidy, filling the loft. Wilson walks behind him and touches his shoulder and House twitches and glances at him but doesn't say how stupid Wilson is being.

When he's in bed he hears House playing the guitar. The notes are soft and gentle and they make Wilson feel that he won't need to do that thing again. That thing he never meant to do anyway.


End file.
